


Jess and Joe: The Written Works

by CammieInTheMaking



Category: Bend It Like Beckham (2002)
Genre: America, England - Freeform, F/M, Letters, because why not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-13 21:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13579482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CammieInTheMaking/pseuds/CammieInTheMaking
Summary: While on the plane headed across the pond, Jess writes Joe a letter. it becomes a normal thing, and Jules writes Joe once or twice in there as well. However, this is about #7 and her old coach, not #9.





	1. Jess

Jules loaded away my and her carry on bags. I looked around. The plane had some empty seats, I noticed as we sat down. I had the window seat and glanced out. We chatted excitedly for a while, but soon Jules fell asleep. I was going to stay awake the entire journey. I stretched my arms above my head. I felt something weird, something scratching me, in the back of my shirt. I climbed over Jules and headed to the loo in the back. I took my shirt off and a picture floated to the ground. I picked it up. It was Joe, on the pitch. He was juggling a football, in a move I could barely attempt, let alone succeed. He had a look of adorable concentration on his chiseled features and his head was angled towards the camera, but it seemed like he didn't know the picture was being taken of him.  _Must have been one of his mates._ I put my shirt back on and took the photo back to my seat. It was a wallet-size photo, and I slid it into my passport, alongside my photo.

I touched my lips absent-mindedly. Joe's lips were here, a couple of hours ago. I can still feel his tongue... _No! Jesminder, you should not be thinking like that!_ But it's Joe. Half of my mind, the obedient Indian daughter, warned me against ever seeing Joe again, but the other half, the female footballer from London, made me pull out the journal Pinky had given me after her wedding and start writing. To Joe.

**_9/25_ **

**_Joe-_ **

**_You know, planes have a different appeal when you're sitting next to your best friend. The trip seems shorter. Unless she's sleeping nearly the entire time. Jules has a skill for sleeping in positions that look so uncomfortable. I miss you. I shouldn't, but, Joe, I do. I miss you. Thanks for the photograph. I really want to know how you slipped it in my shirt. Was it in the hug? Or when your hand was on my back? I couldn't tell. America awaits, Joe. I can't promise I'll still like you when I return home, but I'll try. Keep the girl's side in shape and fighting!_ **

**_Jess_ **

 

**_9/27_ **

**_Joe-_ **

**_I'll just send these two letters together. Jules and I arrived safe, we unpacked, don't worry, your picture flew safely across the pond, as did our luggage. Unfortunately, I forgot my Beckham jersey. Can you ask my parents to mail it to me? The address will be on this envelope. Or you could mail it. I hope you enjoy the enclosed. When I mentioned wanting to give you a photo, Jules gave me one and I chose the other. She gave me the one of me her father took during our final and Pinky gave me the photograph of me in my sari. Thank you. The Yanks are actually friendly._ **

**_Jess_ **


	2. Joe

**_9/31 Jess-_ **

**_The pictures were great. Both sides of you. The female footballer from our Harriers and the Indian born traditionalist. Jess and Jesminder. The jersey's in the box, and your parents insisted on sending a picture of Babeji along with it to make sure it got there well and in safe hands. This picture's from Germany, of everyone after a game. We've been holding trials, but no one can take you or Jules. Tell her that, would you? Get her off my back?_ **

**_-J_ **


	3. Jess

Reading Joe's letter, with the jerky 'J' at the end, Jess couldn't help but smile. Babeji, really? At least he tried. The picture of the first ever Harriers was tearjerking, even Jules agreed. If one looked at Joe, his head turned, he was actually looking at me. Me and Jules, laughing and smiling for the camera. It was clearly before our little spat. We pinned it to wall with the others Joe had sent me. Jules made copies of the ones I sent Joe, so we had a patchwork section with a couple photos.

_**10/2** _

_**Joe-** _

_**Thanks! It's Babaji, just so you know. The sunset of our first night here is enclosed; enjoy. The students here all love Jules and I's accents, but I think yours is cuter. It's sweet and sensitive. Don't be too hard on the new girls. Who returned? So I know the girls' side is in hands I can trust.** _

_**-J** _

Jess mimicked Joe's blocky 'J' with a smooth, loopy one of her own. She had decided to tease him a bit about his coaching and accent.


	4. Jules

**_10/3_ **

**_Joe-_ **

**_Hey. I know you probably don't really want to hear from me after the whole jealousy dispute. Sorry. You make Jess happy, and I can see that. We've made a, well, you could call it a mural, of all the pictures she's sent you and you've sent her. Whenever she's frustrated at our coach, mad at our teachers, or just being Jess, your pictures distract her. It's pretty funny actually. I took this photo of Jess at the beach (she didn't know, if you couldn't tell) and I thought maybe, since you and her have gotten so close, I'll just take my role as younger sister and be supportive. You make her happy, just so you know. Now, down to the grit. I hope your new team is being worked as hard as we were. If they're not, Joseph, you better get on it! I know Mel stayed, but she's got to have some help from the coach or else you'll never be able to get near another trophy! Chop chop!_ **

**_Love you (as a brother don't worry),_ **

**_Jules_ **


	5. Joe

Joe sat up in bed slowly. He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his spine. That felt better. Flipping back his dark gray duvet, he slowly swung his legs over to the side and gingerly placed his weight on them. He winced; the surgeries had resulted in his leg always being sore before being properly exercised. He stumbled across the room and threw a shirt on over his wiry, muscular shoulders.

Joe padded down the hallway of his flat barefoot, an emotionless expression on his face until he saw the picture of Jess in her dark pink sari. A smile broke free. He'd never quite understand her culture, but he knew it was important to her and her family. Joe leaned against the counter and relived that last game, when Jess walked out of the locker room, when the American scout gave them the news. It was definitely a good day. He stood up properly and turned around to make some tea.

When his brew was done, mug in hand, Joe went out to get his mail and newspaper in his sweats and T-shirt, having quickly thrown on sneakers, not even taking the time for socks. He was never like this before Jess went to America. He had never even felt that anticipation before opening his mailbox before, except for once. His love of the game was second only to her, and even then, the two were closely intertwined, with her playing and all. He turned the key and the piece of metal creaked open, four envelopes. He trudged upstairs, still sleepy, and flipped through them.

**Joseph R. Meyers**. He flipped that one back. A bill.

**Joey**. His father. He flipped that back as well, knowing he would eventually get around to opening it.

**Joe**. He stopped dead in the middle of the stairs. It was not the loop of Jess' writing. In fact, it was an uncomfortable reminder, but not unwanted or unwelcome. He hadn't even had time to say much to Jules, he was so fixed on Jess. Somebody coughed behind him and, embarrassed, he started walking again.

**Joe**. There's Jess' letter, the one he had been expecting. He bounded up the stairs as quickly as possible without spilling his tea. He twisted the doorknob with a little difficulty, as his hands were full, but eventually stepped over the threshold and nearly ripped open Jess's letter.

Joe's eyes scanned from side to side. A short one, but she was bound to be busy. He wouldn't know, his father had made him place football over uni, a choice he had regretted before Jess, but now saw the universe's fucked up reasoning. The sunset was gorgeous, dark red, dark orange, a flash of gold, and then some pink and more orange. Joe walked down the hallway and put the letter and picture in a box he had under his bed. He shook his head. _I'm like a teenage girl._ He glanced at his watch. Plenty of time to write back to her, shower, and eat breakfast before going to work. The bar's books weren't going to organize themselves. Joe ran his fingers through his hair.  _I'll shower first._

Twenty minutes later, in a clean pair of sweatpants and the shirt from earlier, he sat down at his desk and pulled out a piece of paper, a pen, and started writing.

_**10/6** _

_**Jess,** _

_**My apologies to Babaji. I love the sunset, it looks nothing like our ones here. The only similarity: the sun. We've no idea how beautiful it truly looks over there or that's where we'd all be. Mel stayed on the team, but who'dve thought-she's pursuing a musical career. And she can actually sing. That doesn't stop her brilliant playing though. Other than Mel, MacKenzie and Sara are the only girls you played with. We've whipped the rookies into shape, and so far nobody's complained to my face, so I guess there's a benefit to you and Jules not being there. Behind my back, however, there's plenty of complaints being filed. Don't worry, the girls seem to think I can't hear them...when they're right behind me. Is that normal, or are some of them just daft? (I need assistance here) My dad wrote to me today. He's back in Ireland, and every once in a while sends me letters. I can't decide whether or not to open it. He addresses it to 'Joey Meyers,' and he knows how much I'm not a fan of the nickname Joey, so I think he wants me not to open it. That's the English half of this relationship. Or Irish, depending on how you look at it.** _

_**-J** _

And he placed that in an envelope with another picture, one his mates took of him. They were camping and he watched the sunrise, and they all laughed at him for it. But in this picture, you could see the pastels of the sunrise and the black silhouette of who could only be Joe. It didn't stop there. He grabbed another piece of paper.

**_10/6_ **

**_Jules-_ **

**_It's no big deal, I liked hearing from you. How's your new team? Is the coach tough? My tough or run 10 laps because you were 10 seconds late? How're you holding up with the changes? How's Jess holding up? You and I both know she wouldn't tell me if something was wrong._ **

**_-J_ **

He sealed both envelopes, licked postage, and put them aside. He'd deliver them when he went to work. He went into the bathroom, combed his hair before messing it up again, hating the neat and tidy look, put on socks, his sneakers, and finally a jacket, before grabbing the new letters and going off. The thought of another day without Jess anywhere near was flat out painful.

But right before the door closed, he stopped it, ran back inside, grabbed the new note from Jess and folded it up. He slid it in the outer breast pocket on his jacket and good measure, added the new picture of Jess at the beach.

This time he left for good, heading straight to the bar, his mind surprising clearer than the last few days.


End file.
